Dear Kingston, I Move Out In 2 Days - Goodbye Queen's!

I can't believe I'm leaving.

My life as a graduate student is almost over.

For all my complaints and worries (and blog posts dictating my complaints and worries) throughout the year, I have to admit that I'm quite sad to be leaving this place. I remember moving in last September, scared out of my mind that attempting a Masters degree was the worst decision I'd ever made.

It wasn't. This year at Queen's was more than I imagined it would be. And now, in about 48 hours, it'll be over.

My parents are heading here on Saturday to help me move out, so I woke up early this morning to start the daunting task of packing up my room. Can someone remind me why I brought so much stuff? I'm actually starting to panic. I have no idea how I'm going to fit all this stuff into my parents' car. It took two trips to bring my things to Kingston - and somehow, we're supposed to bring all this stuff back home in one trip. This is going to be... interesting. Books, clothes, shoes, books, books (why are there so many?!), some random furniture, and other miscellaneous items. Not to mention the fact that I haven't cleaned out my office yet.

UM. Why do I have so much stuff?! Good thing I didn't decide to pack the night before I moved out.

My closet now looks empty, with most of my clothing packed away. My walls look bare, with all my posters and pictures taken down. My desk is empty, with all my study items packed away in boxes.

Oh, this is bittersweet.

And, to top it off, amid all this packing hoopla, I'm also editing my MRP.

Too much stress! Not enough time!

And, to top that off, I've come down with the flu. Packing and editing my MRP with this cold hasn't been easy, when all I want to do is hibernate under the covers and sleep away my cold.

Kingston, I've grown pretty attached to you. You were the first city I moved to where I knew absolutely nobody, leaving behind the life I knew, the people I loved, and the family I've never left. People complain that Kingston is a dump - a small town where you have absolutely nothing to do. Well, you know, I'd beg to differ. I actually quite like this city - I've grown to love it, actually. Kingston, you've been everything I would have wanted in a university experience away from home. Queen's provided something UofT didn't: a wonderful, close-knit student community (grad students included) who I've had the pleasure of getting to know, and I greatly enjoyed every moment of my time here.

I'm not going to pretend that life in Kingston was perfect. That this grad life was stress free, that the workload was easily manageable. There were inevitably bouts of homesickness, Skype dates confessing how much I missed home, late nights working away on papers, hours and hours spent at the library and the office, hours spent slaving away over essays that needed to be marked.

But, you know, if I could go back and re-live the moment I decided to come to Queen's, I'd still make the same decision.

We're too smart to be overly cynical. And so, while some moments of this grad life were more stressful than others, I will say that this whole year has been an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. I've learned so much and experienced more than I thought I would, more than I bargained for.

As for the friends and people that I've met and grown to know this year, I will say that you have all made this year a wonderful experience - and a lot more bearable, given the stress and workload we were all under. It will probably be a very long time before I see you all again. And so, I will say that I've been so very blessed to have met each of you, and that I consider myself lucky to have befriended each of you, even if it was just for a year. And, wherever we all end up next year, always remember that I'm just a phone call or a message away, should any of you need anything! :)

Kingston, I will remember my time here fondly. I'll probably never have the chance to live here again. But, rest assured, I will always have a special place in my heart for this charming city.

Goodbye, Kingston!

"Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time."
— Maya Angelou

"All endings are also beginnings. We just don't know it at the time."
— Mitch Albom (The Five People You Meet in Heaven)

"The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof."
— Barbara Kingsolver

Back To Kingston - One Last Time!

Oh, this is bittersweet.

So, I hadn`t planned on spending this much time in Toronto. I came back on May 19 to be around for a family reunion over the Victoria Day long weekend, and then, of course, I stuck around for my New York trip at the end of May. I had intended to go back to Kingston a few days after I arrived back from New York. But, of course, things didn`t end up that way. One event was planned after another - another family reunion (on a smaller scale), my uncle`s birthday, events with friends. And.... I ended up staying in Toronto for the first couple of weeks of June.

So, basically, I`ve been home for almost a month. It almost feels like I`ve already moved out of Kingston. But, I haven`t. Yet. I need to keep reminding myself that I`m still a resident of Kingston, Ontario - for about two more weeks.

So, here I go again. One last time. Running around, packing my bags, stuffing my suitcase with shoes and clothing I`ve lugged back and forth from city to city. I`ve done this a number of times this past year - going back and forth from Kingston to Mississauga, from Mississauga to Kingston, on Thanksgiving, Christmas Break, Reading Week, Easter Weekend, and various weekends in between.

I can`t believe this is the last time I`m doing this. It seems just like yesterday that I was moving in, scared out of my wits that my year at Queen`s would seem like an eternity.

But it didn`t feel that way at all. And now, I`m moving out of my Kingston home in exactly two weeks. It went by so fast. Unbelievable.

So, time to make my last days in Kingston count, right? Exploring places I didn`t get to during the school year? Plus, I`ll be spending my birthday in Kingston on Saturday, so it should be fun times, celebrating with Kingston friends!

So, I board my bus tomorrow morning. Here we go, two more weeks, Kingston. Let`s make it memorable.

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."
— Albert Einstein

"What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies."
— Jack Kerouac

"And by the way, Monsieur Marius, I believe that I was a little bit in love with you."
— Victor Hugo (Les Misérables)

It Feels Like Summer - A Week of Endings & Distractions In Kingston!

I want to sit here. All day.
I have nothing to blog about.

Because, realistically, have I done any work the past week? Have you looked outside? How could I possibly get any work done? When I could go frolic in the sun? When I could sit on the benches outside Stauffer Library and people-watch the day away?

But, realistically, this also means I must have taken at least 8754357849357 days and nights off since the day I handed in my last term paper. Um. The prospects of finishing my thesis in the timeframe I have aren't looking good. When will I actually start working on this MRP?

I'll let Future Barbara worry about this.

Because, it's the end of the term, and it feels like summer. And ergo, it feels like summer vacation. Not only does it look like summer outside, it feels like summer in a vacation sense of the word. Sandals, sunglasses, a big floppy hat, and leisure reading. That's what I feel like doing right about now.

And also, I can't concentrate. Because it's the end of the term, it's been a week of endings here in Kingston. A week of endings for this so-called grad life of mine. And this vacation-like setting makes me feel like I'm done this degree.

But first...

WITH THE END OF THE YEAR COMES MANY DISTRACTIONS...

Did I mention the weather?

Did I mention that the ice cream shop downtown near the lake just opened today?

Did I mention I can now sit by the lake and read without worries of snow/hail/freezing temperatures?

Did I mention that my new jogging regime (inspired by the weather) has me addicted to running and fixated on studying everything there is to know about daily exercise? And ergo, NOT studying my thesis topic?

Did I mention that I still haven't fully decided on a law school for next year yet? And ergo, I've been spending much of my waking hours researching, wracking my brain, trying to decide once in for all which institution I'd like to spend the next three years of my life in?

Did I mention the end-of-year bonanzas in Kingston every night this week?

And lastly, did I mention that the World Figure Skating Championships can be streamed live everyday this week?.

A WEEK OF ENDINGS

And, like I said, it's also been a week of endings here in Kingston. Enough to distract me from doing my work. It's been such a great semester. And now, summer's here. People are leaving. My schedule is changing. My daily routine will probably change. And, in less than two months, I'll be leaving Kingston too.

First, it's been a week of finishing up my last duties as a Politics TA. 700 exams were marked, recorded, checked, re-checked. Yup. I'm officially no longer a TA. And, I'm almost 100% sure I probably won't be a TA again in the future. Oh, this is bittersweet. I'm going to miss it.

It's been a week of undergrads moving out of Kingston. I swear, I must have seen a dozen first years trudging down University Avenue with suitcases in tow. Have a fun summer, kids! Let the grad students take over Kingston while you're gone, yea?

It's been a week of friends moving out, moving back home. Plus, Housemate #1 just moved out today. Oh god, I hate goodbyes.

It's, basically, been a week of mass exodus out of Kingston. This town is going to be so quiet the next few months.

It really does feel like summer vacation.

Oh, summer. I can't wait to enjoy you.... after I write this thesis. So, in the midst of all the goodbyes, farewell lunches, dinners, and parties, I need to get back to work. Back to the library I go. Tomorrow.

"In my end, is my beginning."
- T.S. Eliot

Lessons Learned From Grumpy Old Men - My Trip Home From Kingston To Toronto

Yesterday, I woke up at the crack of dawn to figure out my packing situation for the long weekend. I've mentioned a number of times on this blog, prior to my trips home, that I'm a chronic overpacker. Ever met those people who don't know the meaning of "pack lightly"? Even if they're only going to be away for a few days? That's me. I never know what to pack. Even when I was younger, I'd pack my life away in numerous duffel bags on my way to sleepovers (until my parents would throw their hands up in frustration and made me re-pack).

But, no matter. Because, I'm home! Home for the long weekend! Ah, it feels so good to be back. Hope everyone has a great long weekend, it's sure to be a good one!

But, I learned a lesson on my way home yesterday.

Hopping on the city bus (with just a mere backpack, duffel bag, and purse, I know, WHAT A PACKING SUPERSTAR!), I headed over to Kingston's local bus terminal where my Coach bus was leaving at 10:00 am, bound for Toronto.

I arrived an hour early, with time to kill. So I walked over to the Tim Horton's located beside the terminal to get some breakfast. As I walked in, I blinked. The coffee shop was full, and I mean full, of old men. Not that it was overtly weird... but it kind of was. Oddly fascinating.

Because, it was like a scene from the movies. I mean, it wasn't like there was an old man convention going on. That bus terminal is pretty much located in the middle of nowhere. It just looked so fascinating, you know? The tables were flooded with old men, chatting.

Think of that classic, stereotypical scene of old men sitting around a coffee shop chatting with their friends about life. That's what I saw. Old men in corduroy pants, plaid shirts, jean jackets, perfectly parted gray hair, cell phones bigger than your forearms. The coffee shop was full of them. All sitting in their old men cliques, chatting with their friends over coffee.

But that wasn't the weird part.

Luckily, I spotted an empty table, hurried over to dump my things on the table, and turned to order a breakfast sandwich and tea to satisfy my growling tummy. After I was handed my order, I sat happily in my corner, unravelled my sandwich, and happily texted my friends that, YES, I WAS AT THE BUS TERMINAL AND I WAS COMING HOME, BABY!

Until, of course, my penchant for eavesdropping got the better of me.

At the table beside me sat a clique of five old men. And, after listening for a few minutes, I figured out two of their names. Albert and Johnson. Cute, right? Except, their conversation was far from endearing.

"Albert, we're going to die soon," Johnson said glumly, chomping on his chocolate dipped donut.

"Why do you say that?" Albert asked.

"Because, we're old, damnit," Johnson snapped. "All our friends are gone. We're bored everyday. I say, we're going to die soon too."

"How did we get so old?" Another man chirped, sighing dejectedly, "We really are going to die."

"What do we have to live for?" the fourth one wailed, "We're too old to golf, too old to shop, too old to do anything."

"We might as well just die," Johnson sighed.

How morbidly depressing. And as I looked around, eavesdropping on other conversations, the other old men at other tables were talking in the same vein.

There was the conversation about Smith with the "bad heart" and how "he had it coming." The conversation on how "bingo was getting boring." The conversation on how "the grandkids don't visit anymore." The conversation on how "life is so boring, we might as well just die." They all seemed to reach that conclusion.

It was so sad. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to reach over and give them all hugs, but, you know, they would have thought I was insane.

I remember volunteering at retirement homes with my parents last year, playing the piano for elderly folks just like the men in that coffee shop. And just like the men in that coffee shop, they all sat in their beds or chairs. Wistful, sad, bored, lonely. Th men in that coffee shop kept saying life was boring. That they felt so alone.

No one deserves that, you know?

How sad, how lonely it must be to live life like that. And, that's the thing. Yesterday was just a wakeup call for me. That there are people out there, young or old, who may need someone to talk to, who may need someone to entertain them in the midst of their current issues. There are people out there who are lonely, who may have problems they haven't told anybody. Sometimes, people just need someone to care about them. Someone to love them, to be their friend.

We all might be busy and overwhelmed with this grad life, but it shouldn't stop us from checking in with our friends, relatives, parents, to see if they're doing alright. There are many people, older or younger, out there who may need help valuing each day we're given. Who desire friendship, love, companionship. Let's not get so wrapped up in our own affairs that we forget to check up and spend time with those we care about, yea? Seeing those men yesterday greatly concerned me. Whose checking up on them, I wonder?

Sorry, that was a little sappy. End corny blog post. And, I've just given myself a major guilt trip for skipping out on volunteering at the retirement home since September.

Boo to me.

I hope you all have a wonderful long weekend, spending time with those you love and those you care about!

"The vast majority of human beings dislike and even dread all notions with which they are not familiar. Hence, it comes about that, at their first appearance, innovators have generally been persecuted, and always derided as fools and madmen."
- Aldous Huxley

"A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination."
- Nelson Mandela

The Convenience Store That Rips You Off & The Convenience Store That Saved Me

Okay. Let me tell you about my day. From 10:00 am to 4:00 pm, I sat at the library. From 4:30 pm to 5:30 pm, I went to TA my tutorial. From 5:30 pm to 8:00 pm, I sat at the library. Again. So, let's review. That's about nine long hours spent at the library today.

This Elections essay is taking over my life.

My knee is numb from sitting too long, and I'm so exhausted. Plus, as I stumbled out the library this evening, I realized that the last time I ate was at 12:00 pm today.

Yeah. I forgot to eat.

So, obviously, after trudging out the library, I was both tired and starving. But since I've been living at the library the past two weeks, I've barely had time to go to the grocery store. However, though I toyed with the idea of walking to Metro tonight, I was just too tired (read: lazy) to head all the way there.

So what's a tired grad student going to do for food? I thought I'd, you know, pick up something quick to cook at the local convenience store near the library, promising myself I'd start eating healthier next week.

THE CONVENIENCE STORE THAT RIPS YOU OFF

So have you guys been there? That Campus Variety Store at the corner of Earl Street and Albert Street? You haven't? Oh, that's okay. Don't go there. No, believe me, don't go there.

I hadn't checked out this convenience store all year, but resigned and tired, I fully expected items to be slightly overpriced because, well, it's a convenience store located right at the heart of the Student Ghetto. But, for the reasons outlined above, I couldn't go to a real grocery store. So I thought I'd suck it up, and get something to eat quick, as I didn't think prices would be that unreasonable.

I guessed wrong.

I walked down the first aisle, and the first indication of beyond overpriced food came when I glanced at a package of Catelli Smart pasta and saw it priced at $5.99.

What?!? That's $1.99 at Food Basics, yo!

I walked to the meat section to see how much their chicken was.

Yeah. A box of, like 10 chicken strips was priced at $12.99.

What?!? That's $7.99 at Food Basics!

I can't even.... yeah. No. I left. Right away. Why are you ripping students off, Campus Variety? Why?! I was indignant. I couldn't believe how overpriced the items were. And for students?! Who will inevitably need this food the most?

I cannot comprehend the absurdity.

THE CONVENIENCE STORE THAT SAVED MY DAY

Yet as I down Johnson Street, I realized my indignation still left me starving. Hungry. I was so very, very exhausted and hungry. I needed to cook and eat something, quick.

Then I remembered a convenience store that my housemates had mentioned earlier in the year. One that they said was relatively cheap because it was situated beyond the Ghetto. I wasn't too far away, so, off I walked, to the tiny little convenience store at the corner of Brock Street and Nelson Street.

It is, aptly, named Convenience Store.

I walked in, surprised to see how absolutely tiny it was. I'd never been inside. Looking around, I spotted an older Asian man waving at me, calling out a cheerful, "Good evening!"

Except. It was weird. He said "good evening" like a song. I mean, he said it like, "Good EEEV-neeeng!" Dragging out the syllables in a sing-songy manner, complete with high and low octaves. I can't even explain how weird and funny it was.

No, seriously. It was hilarious. Convenience Store is owned by the most quirky Singing Korean Man.

So, in a hurry, I headed down the meat aisle and found fresh sausages at an extremely reasonable price. My housemates were right about this place, I was so pleased.

And here, came the best part of my convenience store quest.

Because, well, Singing Korean Man kept singing as he rang up my purchase.

"ArEE yoUU ChiNEESEE?" he sang, jumping from higher and lower octaves.

Confused, yet amused, I replied I wasn't.

Pointing to himself, he sang, "I aMMMM KorEEEEEan!"

Nodding in excitement, I replied, "Really?! I watch your dramas all the time!"

"YoUUU watCHHH KorEEEEan drAAAmas?" Singing his heart out, he paused from putting my sausages in a bag and lifted his laptop from under the cash counter.

Oh, it was epic. Because, well, Singing Korean Man was, hilariously, watching a Korean drama on his laptop while he waited for customers. He was, of course, singing along with the Korean pop song blaring out of his speakers.

"Wow!" I enthused, "That's a good drama you're watching!"

"Thank Youuuuuu!" he handed me my sausages, "Gooood NIIIIGHT!"

Oh, my gosh. He was hilarious.

SO THE MORALS OF TODAY'S STORIES?
1. Don't forget to eat.
2. Campus College Variety is overpriced.
3. And Singing Korean Man who owns the Convenience Store on Brock Street is too awesome beyond words.

Go buy something and listen to him sing you a conversation! Go do it! It will be epic.

He will make your life. Just like he made my day.

Thanks for the cheap food and entertainment after a long, long, tiring day, Singing Korean Man! I will be back!

"Friendship is the glue that keeps our lives together, especially when it feels as if everything is falling apart."

"If there is ever a tomorrow when we are not together, there is something you must always remember: you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think, but most important of all, even if we are apart, I'll always be with you."
- Christopher Robin to Winnie The Pooh

My (Tentative) New Love Affair With Sushi - A Lesson For Trying New Things

Before I moved to Kingston, I never had sushi. Ever, in my life. I know right? Whenever I told people I'd never tried sushi, I always received the horrified, "But... you're Asian." It was my thing. I was the Girl Who Never Had Sushi.

And to this today, even as I write this blog post, I've only had sushi three times in my life. And all three times happened in Kingston. I've been told that I need to try sushi in Toronto. Apparently, it's a life-changing experience.

I don't know why I was so apprehensive about trying sushi. I'm usually not resistant to trying new things re: food. But sushi? I think it had to do with the seaweed factor. I hate the taste of seaweed. Once, my parents and I had to watch our neighbour's house for a couple of weeks while they were on vacation, and when they came back, they rang our doorbell with a ~box of cookies~ to thank us. Without reading the label (granted, it was in Chinese), I cracked open the lid and bit eagerly into one of the cookies. Guess what kind of cookies they were?

Seaweed cookies.

Ew. I thought I was eating, like, feet.

So last October, Tory and Belinda decided that enough was enough. We walked into Sima Sushi, located at Princess and Bagot. I was a little apprehensive, but I went anyway. And I'm really glad I did. I even came up with a way to eat sushi with minimal seaweed-to-taste bud contact. I'll just order the ones with the rice around the seaweed, so I won't have to taste it. BRILLIANT, right? Anyway, my sushi experience in Kingston has been pleasant to date. To the point that I'm actually really really growing to like it. Since October, I've been to Arisu Sushi on Princess and Division twice. It's an acquired taste, I guess.

Side Note: At Sima Sushi back in October, I ordered a plate of Avocado rolls (??) and that sushi type with fried sweet potato (??). I don't know what they're called. Yeah. I just totally butchered those names. I think they're types of California Rolls? Really, I have no idea. I think this is a sign that need to educate myself by consulting a sushi and sashimi glossary.

Side Note 2: Speaking of sashimi, I still haven't tried it. I'm a little apprehensive about eating raw fish. Let's review. It's raw. I think it will take awhile before I build up enough courage to try a bite. What does that even taste like?

And so, my friends, to end on a more positive note, I think this should be a lesson for trying new things. If you don't like it after the first try, fine. But at least you tried it.

There are many things, admittedly, that I've been apprehensive to try (or do) in Kingston and, let's admit it, in life. Like that complicated contraption at the gym that supposedly works out your abs, but I've been too chicken to touch it. Or like getting into a pool and learning how to swim beyond the standard doggy paddle. Or learning how to surf. Or paying the deposit to sky dive this summer because of my apprehension re: WHAT IF MY PARACHUTE DOESN'T OPEN? I WILL DIE.

This grad life is too short to spend being the perennial chicken I am with things I'm unfamiliar with. It's always refreshing to try new things. I'm 90% sure I'm leaving Canada for law school next year. I'll be in a foreign country, surrounded by people I don't know, in a city I know nothing about. I'll be trying new things everyday. Might as well stop being a chicken and start now, yea?

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."
- Martin Luther King Jr.

"A cynical young person is almost the saddest sight to see. Because it means that he or she has gone from knowing nothing to believing in nothing."
- Maya Angelou

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."
- Oscar Wilde

6 More Weeks, Four Months Left (Until The End of Queen's)

How did time go by so quickly? No, really. How? There are exactly 6 weeks left of classes for this term. And to put this into perspective (since I'll be, hopefully, done my Masters Research Paper in June) there are only four months left until I finish my Masters degree. Four months. Four months until I leave Kingston for good.

I don't know about you, but I've gotten extremely attached to this city. Who knows why, really. There's something so charming about Kingston that I've fallen head over heels in love with. And even though I complain incessantly about leaving home during my breaks, coming back to Kingston reminds me why I love it.

Oh, friends. My time in Kingston is almost over. And yet, I feel like I haven't done half the things I wanted to do in this city. There's still so much to do and see. And so, I've compiled a list of things I'd like to do in Kingston before I leave (on top of all my work, of course).

A KINGSTON TO-DO LIST BEFORE I LEAVE

1. Visit the Kingston Penitentiary. Because a tour of the local jail is free for all students. With your student card, of course. What's up.

2. Play squash at the ARC. Or just, you know, go to the ARC regularly for a period of time in general. Because I need to do something about this sedentary existence that is my life. And I also need to see the inside of the campus gym at some point during this degree.

3. Why haven't I ever been to Tir Nan Og? Like, ever? This needs to change.

4. Why haven't I ever been to Harper's Burgers? This also needs to change. Those burgers are rumoured to be life-changing. Mmmm. Succulent, mouth-watering beef. Come to me.

5. Take a Kingston Boat Tour. I don't exactly know how to do this. But my officemate keeps insisting that I go. And that I should perfectly time it so that I'm on the boat when the sun sets because it's apparently absolutely beautiful. How exciting. I should do this in June.

6. And since Kingston is in such close proximity to Ottawa and Montreal, why haven't I taken a weekend trip to either of these cities? I'd love to go to Ottawa for Canada Day. This needs to happen.

7. I want to make my last four months in Kingston count. And if that includes stuffing myself by trying out all the restaurants I wanted to visit in Kingston, then so be it. See: Niji Sushi, Copper Penny, Luke's.

8. Study at Douglas Library. In the Harry Potter Room. I still haven't been inside. I know, shame on me.

9. Take pictures along the lake in the spring. Or, better yet, fly a kite by the lake in the spring. I've seen people do this, and I want in. Also, I don't really walk around the lake area very much, so I should probably wander the area before I leave.

10. Carrot cake. The Sleepless Goat. Enough said.

There are probably more things to add to this list, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Oh, Kingston. I'm going to miss you when I leave. I'm going to try to make the most out of my last few months with you.

"In all affairs, it's a healthy thing now and then to hang a question mark on the things you have long taken for granted."
- Bertrand Russell

Dear Kingston, I'm Not An International Student

After an eventful evening at Zappas Lounge the other night, it took forever to hail a cab. Forever. I can't explain to all of you how excruciatingly cold it was. And so, resigned to the fact that it would take 20 minutes for a cab to arrive, we hurried into Mac's Convenience Store at the corner of Clarence Street and Ontario Street to warm up. Trust me, we needed warmth. Fast.

(Pretending) to look around for something to purchase, we wandered around until we caught sight of a girl watching us curiously. She didn't look that much older than us. In fact, if I had to guess, I`d say she was in her second year at Queen's.

Staring at us transfixed, the girl slowly walked forward, cocked her head to the side, eyes opened wide, and stopped directly in front of us to say the following:

"Oh my goodness, you girls look so... exotic looking. Are you international students?"

Hi. Martin Luther King Jr. just called. He wants a word with you.

At first, I didn't know how to react. Actually, I wandered off for a few minutes to giggle uncontrollably to myself before I went back. I know it wasn't a laughing matter, but I couldn't believe she was equating the colour of our skin to an automatic assumption that we were of the ~foreign visiting kind~

News Flash. Coloured people are born in Canada too!

She then continued with the following gem:

"Wow, your accents are really good. Where did you learn how to speak English? How do you like Canada? I know the weather isn't the greatest for ethnic people."

Oh, dear Superior One. You're incredibly perceptive. You're right, English was tough to learn for a yellow immigrant girl like me. Sometimes, I still pause during conversations to pull out my trusty English Dictionary. Lasting legacies of ESL class, you know? Don't worry, I'll do you proud and learn Western colloquialisms one day. Once I get over my inferiority complex over my thick Asian Chinese accent, of course. Also, I eat rice, perpetually use chopsticks as my primary utensil, constantly flash the peace sign in every picture, and scrub my skin with lemon juice every night so I could be as white as you.

Uh. In case you were wondering, that was sarcasm.

Back to my story. So after a few minutes, we realized that our cab would be at Mac's any minute. Thinking that the girl was out of earshot, my friend Shellane was confused. She didn`t know whether to be shocked or amused. Please, you don't get this treatment in Toronto. "She thinks we're international students because we look like this!" she marvelled in horror, pointing to her own skin. Yes, Shellane. She really did.

Okay, in all honesty, I wasn`t offended, really. I don`t think any of us were. We honestly didn`t know what to think. It`s not like we get this treatment often, particularly since we`re from Toronto. However, I suppose I can see where she`s coming from. Apart from the student community surrounding Queens` immediate area, Kingston isn`t the most diverse city out there. And, common sense speaking, what you don`t know or don`t see often can naturally, genuinely be perceived as foreign. Mind you, I`m not condoning behaviour that`s even borderline racist nor am I condoning ignorance. But I suppose, playing devil`s advocate, I understand where ignorance stems from, which is why I don`t think I was offended in the situation above. The lack of awareness, the lack of knowing still exists in smaller cities. And how can you know about something you don`t know about? You know what I mean?

It`s interesting when behaviour like this happens. I`m taking a Canadian Politics field course this semester, and the readings each week have all, in some way, touched on the idea of diversity and accommodating differences in Canada. I love the popular conception of Canada as a diverse, multicultural, cultural mosaic that recognizes and appreciates differences no matter where you end up in this country. But truthfully, while there are regions that reflect this cultural mosaic, others are beyond homogeneous. And it`s interesting to see differing approaches to diversity, even within my own province. But that`s just me rambling. I`m sure there`s more to this that I haven`t touched on, but I`m tired and I haven`t slept in a few days.

While some people perceive the numbers of immigrants in our country as a detriment, multiculturalism can also be our greatest strength. So let`s all be aware of our diverse backgrounds, hesitate when approaching stereotypes, and be sensitive and understanding of our differences, yes?

P.S. Oh, right. By the way, Kingston, for the millionth time, contrary to visual stereotypical indications, I'm not Chinese. I'm Filipino. Please learn the difference. Perhaps that'll stop you from approaching me at the Grizzly Grill with advances of "Chinese? Chinese? Ni Hao!" Also, I'm not a fan of sushi, fried shrimp, or anything remotely resembling seafood. Does that take care of all the Asian stereotypes?

“We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter what their color.”
- Maya Angelou

"Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were."
- Cherie Carter-Scott

"Irony is when we smile at those we despise, and engage in bitter arguments with those we love dearly."

Back In Kingston - Excitement For A New Semester

Skating, skating, skating!
As I write this blog post, I cannot feel my toes. Or my fingers, for that matter. And so, please forgive my poor grammar. Or any spelling errors that may occur as a result of my fingers' lack of mobility. Why am I semi-frozen, wrapped up in three layers of clothing, pulling on a third layer of socks, you ask? Let's backtrack a bit.

This morning, at the crazy hour of 7:30 am, my Coach bus departed from the Toronto bus terminal, en route to Kingston. Awesome. This meant that my parents and I had to leave our house by 6:15 am to ensure that we'd get there in time. Dragging myself out of bed this morning with barely four hours of sleep was not an easy task. And even the thought of hauling my monstrous suitcases home once I got to Kingston was enough to give me a mild migraine. And so, once the bus hit the Kingston terminal, I resolved to take a cab. And I did, arriving in Kingston bright and early this morning. Woot.

While I was super upset that the break went by so quickly, that I had to leave home when I really really didn't want to, I suppose being back isn't so bad. Why? Because arriving in Kingston has me excited about the following possibilities.

1) SOURCE OF EXCITEMENT #1: OH.MY.GOSH. It's a dream come true. As I walked to Starbucks this afternoon (after the nightmare of unpacking), I stopped in my tracks when I realized that there's a skating rink at Vic Park. What! What! A skating rink just a few blocks away from home? No way! And if that wasn't enough, it gets better. There's also a skating rink by city hall, just a few minutes away from campus!

I was so excited that I resolved to go skating every evening this week, even if it means skating alone. Yes, I'm crazy. But it's early in the term. Ergo, our work hasn't piled up yet. I should take advantage of this free time, no?

And so, I took a break from work this evening to go skating by city hall with my housemate. The good news? It isn't Nathan Phillips Square, but the rink is beautiful, and I loved it. The bad news? It was cold. Really, really, cold. And that is why I'm frozen in bed at the moment, lamenting the state of my frozen fingers and toes. Ah, well, enduring the weather was worth it. I'll just have to dress warmer next time.

I'm so happy that we have a skating rink just a few minutes away from home! I need to take advantage of how close it is. I'll just have have to, um, make sure I dress warmer next time. This I-think-I-may-have-frostbite business doesn't feel too great.

2) SOURCE OF EXCITEMENT #2: Tomorrow marks the first day of class, and I must say, I'm pretty excited about the course I'm attending tomorrow. Actually, I'm extremely excited about all my courses this semester. While there is a possibility that I may switch one course, I'm really satisfied with my schedule this semester (two days of class a week!), particularly since I'll be taking a course outside my department at the School of Policy Studies. So much new material to learn, so many interesting books and articles to read!

Okay, the books and readings part doesn't sound so appealing on paper (and I'm sure I'll be complaining about them later), but I'm so glad to have the opportunity to learn under some pretty awesome instructors, to learn material that I haven't had a chance to study before. It's going to be a great semester!

3) SOURCE OF EXCITEMENT #3: This is a really minor issue to get excited about. But I'm excited anyway. Many who know me are aware of my indescribable love for London Fogs. I perpetually crave tea lattes. And so, how excited was I to find out that, from January 7 - 16, Starbucks is having a 50% sale on ALL their tea lattes from 2:00 pm to 5:00 pm daily?

As if I wasn't at Starbucks enough before, I may now just have to live there.

There are so many things to be excited about. It's a semester of new classes, new classmates, new teachers, law school applications, and other memorable activities and events that I'm sure we'll all enjoy. While I initially wasn't happy to come back, in retrospect, I'm glad I'm here. Home will always have my heart, but I suppose Kingston can have a part of it too. New year, new semester, time to get excited!

"I said to my child, I will explain to you as much about life as I can, but you must remember that there is a part of life for which you are the explanation."
- Robert Braul

“The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.”
- Flora Whittemore

“This is my wish for you: comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth. And love to complete your life.”

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas!

I have an exam tomorrow. And yet, I am blogging. Because I have my priorities straight.

And so behold, dear readers, is an ode to my excitement about the holiday season.

I can't even convey in words how excited I am about the holidays. Family reunions? Family dinners? Going home to Mississauga/Toronto for three whole weeks? Reuniting with friends? Celebrating in Kingston after exams? I am so, so excited, I can hardly contain it (insert 20 exclamation marks here).

But there's a downside to all this (holiday) excitement. Unfortunately, I have an exam tomorrow. And yet I can't focus. My mind is clearly elsewhere. Dear face, meet my palm.

Tory, Belinda, and I sat at Starbucks for hours this afternoon, attempting to study for our exam (Macro-Political Regulation of Ethnic Conflict. Exciting, right?). And yet our conversations weren't centered on the benefits of consociationalism (yes, I really did just mention Arend Lijphart on my blog. What's up?). Instead, the hours were spent seriously discussing the merits of short sleeve or long sleeve dresses for a Christmas party we're attending. Or the direction we should walk on Princess Street to maximize the number of stores we can visit for our shopping date on Friday.

Really, who could blame us? Santa Baby was blaring in the background at Starbucks all afternoon. (Along with Josh Groban, but that's another story).

This holiday excitement is both a benefit and a detriment. There's just so much to look forward to! And plus, Kingston looks beautiful. Decked out in decorative splendor, the streets are flooded with lights, store windows with absolutely exquisite displays. Kingston's small-town charm is so incredibly picturesque, I can't wait to walk around town to take pictures. Honestly, I love the holiday season, simply for the environment, and the togetherness we experience with those we've grown to know and love.

Oh, this excitement. I'm too excited to do anything productive, and yet I know I have to. Lest I flunk out of grad school. Alright, friends, it's time to buckle down and focus. Let this blog post serve as a motivator to help us realize that working hard will allow us to enjoy the fruits of our labour after - time earned to relax and enjoy the holiday season in Kingston before we all go home for Christmas. There is so much (celebration) to look forward to!

So back to studying I go! I just have to get through the next 24 hours, study for this exam, and write it. Because tomorrow night's post-exam plan involves Christmas movies and dragging our professor out downtown for a ~celebratory drink~ or two (or ten, whatever works). (ETA: I just realized how highly inappropriate that sounds. I promise, it isn't! Let's pause while I giggle for a few minutes. Because I'm twelve).

And I promise, dear readers, after this exam, I will actually blog about something provocative and interesting (can someone say WikiLeaks?) No more grumblings over how much work I have to do (for now), I promise!

"There are many things in life that will catch your eye. But only a few will catch your heart."
- Ben Crenshaw

Close Encounters of the TA Kind - The Kingston Bubble

Kingston. It's large enough that it still feels like a city, yet small enough so you feel that comfortable community environment Queen's is so proud of. We live in that Kingston Bubble. And so, logically, we run into each other frequently, correct?

Friends, this past weekend was the epitome of everything I've said above. My encounters were, obviously, coincidental. Yet it all happened in sequence, in same weekend. Collectively, these encounters are strangely amusing, yet so strangely seemingly contrived. Eerie, even. My collective sequence of encounters were so strange (yet entertaining) that I've decided to blog about it.

And here, my friends, is my narrative of this past weekend's amusingly strange encounters. More specifically, these close encounters of the TA kind. That's right. TA-ing and students have something to do with it.

ENCOUNTER 1:
I've spent the last two weeks agonizing over marking essays (and, as a side note, if I ever have to read about why torture isn't an appropriate state tool ever again, I will probably throw a tantrum). Yet I set marking aside on Friday morning to spend time with my dodgeball team. We held an end-of-semester sushi lunch, since we won't see each other until January. The reason? Because we didn't make play-offs. Sad. I know. But that's a story for another day.

During lunch, I told Josephine all about my love affair with coffee shops, mentioning that I would be marking essays in a coffee shop that afternoon. And here, Josephine uttered those fateful words: "What if one of your students walked into the coffee shop you were marking in?" And I naively replied with a laugh, "That would never happen!"

Naive, I tell you. Really, I should have known.

And so after sushi, I walked to my usual coffee shop to mark the remainder of my papers. I sat there for several hours, and I went through them pretty quickly. Awesome. Marking was going great. Until I heard someone clearing their throat behind me. Turning around, I gaped in surprise to see one of my students standing behind me to say hello. They had spotted me marking from across the coffee shop.

Josephine's prediction came true. Dun dun dun. Eerie.

ENCOUNTER 2:
After a brief hello, hurriedly, I packed up and decided to walk over to the coffee shop across the street for a slice of cake. I needed a change of scenery, right? And really, I needed to leave. I felt my student's curious gaze burning a hole in the back of my head.

And so I walked to another coffee shop, found a seat, ordered a slice of scrumptious carrot cake, placed the remaining stack of essays on the table, and continued marking. It was going great. And yet half an hour later, it happened again.

Flipping over the title page to begin marking the next essay, I looked up and saw the student of the paper I was marking walk into the coffee shop. Let me say that again. The student of the paper I was marking.

What are the chances of that happening? Seriously, what? Dun dun dun. Eerie.

Meekly, my student paused to wave at me and I waved back, discreetly slipping her paper underneath my pile in the event that she would walk over to say hello.

She didn't.

ENCOUNTER 3:
That evening, some friends and I sat at the Common Ground for another few hours of marking and studying. Because our lives are so exciting, right? After describing Encounter 1 and Encounter 2 to a fellow TA, she laughed. Because beyond the awkward nature of the situation, I suppose it was an entertaining story.

But it wasn't over.

We finished marking pretty late that night, and I decided to take the Walkhome service home (an awesome service where two students walk home with you). Because it's dark. And Vic Park scares me at midnight.

And so as I requested a walk home from the desk at the JDUC, two students emerged to announce that they would be walking me home for the night. Donning their Walkhome walkie-talkies, we set out towards my house. Chatting about our classes, I asked my Walkhome walker what program he was in. His answer? "I'm in first-year Politics."

Oh. Really? Would you, by any chance, be taking the first-year Politics course? Friends, you know the answer. Why, yes he was! Cautiously, I asked him who his TA was. His reply? His TA was the friend I was marking with that evening.

Seriously. Can this town get any smaller? Spoken like a true urbanite.

ENCOUNTER 4:
And so this afternoon, I finished the last paper I had to mark as I sat in Starbucks enjoying the Christmas music and drinking my usual London Fog. Hallelujah, marking was over! Over! And so as I sat, reading blissfully, I looked up. And. You guessed it.

Another one of my students walked in. With other students from our tutorial. (Insert face palm here). They waved uncertainly, and I waved back. Because really, what's the etiquette of approaching TAs or Professors in a non-academic setting? Awkward situations, these.

How much of this could realistically happen in one weekend? It boggles the mind.

ENCOUNTER 5:
Wary of running into any of my students, yet too busy to get up and switch coffee shops, I immersed myself in more work and began to email back and forth with one of my own professors. I had questions regarding the essay due for his class this week.

We emailed back and forth for ten minutes. I had all my questions answered.

Until, of course, I heard someone clear his throat beside me. I looked up. And, wouldn't you know it? My professor had been sitting right across from me at Starbucks the entire time we had been emailing each other. After sending my last email, we finally noticed each other.

I waved meekly and said a brief, yet awkward, hello. He, in turn, waved and stood up to leave.

Oh, Kingston Bubble. Your small-town environment never ceases to amaze me.

LESSONS LEARNED?

This all happened this past weekend, folks. All of it. Lessons learned?

1. Your students are everywhere.
2. Everywhere.
3. In Kingston, you run into at least three person you know, involuntarily, everyday.
4. The Kingston Bubble is small.
4 a). But we love it anyway.

“When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.”
- Peter Marshall (American Game Show Host)

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'"
- Erma Bombeck

Bahamas On A Friday Night

Bahamas? What? No, I didn't go to the Bahamas on Friday. Beaches? Sand? Unfortunately, my life isn't that glamorous. However, I did experience something just as great on Friday night.

This blog post really has no purpose other than to mention (read: rave about) my Friday night at the Grad Club, witnessing the talented Afie Jurvanen put on a pretty fabulous show. Seriously, how is he not more well-known? This guy is going to be a bigger hit in the future, my friends. He has stage presence like no other.

Overall, the indie fan in me had a fabulous night (I just realized how many times I used the word `fabulous` in this blog post. What can I say, I have no excuse. I`m tired and I marked all day). And did it help that a friend of mine totally walked past him by the bar? Where he stood, so casually, like a rock star? No big deal, right?

Actually, after witnessing his guitar skills, it`s a semi-big deal. Excuse me while I sit in a corner to wring my hands fervently like an excited (read: manic) fangirl.

Anyway, I liked Bahamas so much that I've decided to pimp him on my blog. For those who don't know who Bahamas is, check him out! He won't disappoint. The Bahamas MySpace page isn't very user friendly, so if you desire an evening of relaxing (read: awesome) music, here are a few YouTube links to some songs he played on Friday:

Bahamas - Whole Wide World (My favourite, hands down).

Bahamas - Already Yours

Bahamas - Hockey Teeth

Bahamas - Till The Morning (Click on the playlist on the right).

This has to be the shortest blog post I've ever written. But what can I say? Good music speaks for itself. It never ceases to amaze me how Kingston is such a haven for live music. Love it.

"Life can't be all bad when for ten dollars you can buy all the Beethoven sonatas and listen to them for ten years."
- William F. Buckley, Jr.

“I think just working as hard as we possibly can, without dying! And always, always trying to write the best songs we could possibly make. And just to come out of our shell a little bit more.”
- Billy Lunn

In Defense of the University of Toronto - From Alumni, With Love

I love UofT. No, I don`t think love is the correct adjective here. Let`s rephrase that. I adore UofT to the point of emotional and academic attachment. What can I say? I`m an appreciative (read: loyal) alumna.

I love UofT. There. I said it again. I know I`m not the only one who shares these sentiments, so I take comfort in the fact that I`m not alone in my academic fandom.

What has triggered this sudden blog post in defense of an institution I`ve already graduated from? Don`t get me wrong, I love Queen`s. Actually, let me further re-phrase that statement. I adore Queen`s. It`s everything I would have wanted in a university experience away from home. However, I feel the need to defend the institution I received my undergraduate degree from due to several conversations I`ve had in the Queen`s community. Because really, when you`re as awesome as UofT, there`s a tendency to be misunderstood (read: hated). This blog post aims to convey, dear readers, why I think UofT is awesome. And I`m not just saying this because I`m Asian.

Unfortunately (and I will probably receive some anonymous defensive hate mail for this a statement), I`ve run into far too many people in Kingston who despise UofT. Yes, despise. Utter derision, really. Accusing UofT of elitism? Behold, Exhibit A. A conversation I had with an individual I met at the beginning of the year. Let`s call him Anonymous.

Anonymous: Where did you do your undergraduate degree?
Me: I went to UofT.
Anonymous (completely serious): Oh. I hate UofT. We`ll have to undo the damage it did to you.
Me (taken aback): Excuse me?
Anonymous: I said, I hate UofT. It`s a stuck-up, elitist school who think its ivory tower is better than everybody else. It`s a right-wing machine producing elitist snobs who do nothing but contribute to the world`s unequal distribution of wealth.
Me: Well, I--
Anonymous (interrupts me): God, I hate UofT. It`s the best school if you want to get rich. It`s not the best school to save our planet. UofT thinks its better than everyone else, I hate it.
Me (indignant): I loved my time at UofT.
Anonymous (stands up and walks away): Then there`s no hope for you.

Really? Well, I think you`re a maniac.

It pains me to say that this wasn`t my only encounter of professed spite for UofT. Believe me, I`ve had several of these encounters in Kingston. I don`t fully understand this academic hate-on, but it`s irritating. And I will publically say that for every eye-roll I received, every face that was made when I admitted that I`m UofT alumni, I roll my eyes back. In exasperation. And pity for such blatant disrespect.

Elitism? There were 2000 students in each of my first-year classes. Fostering elitist attitudes and snobbery? I highly doubt that each student who attended UofT has aspirations to take over the corporate world. Assumptions much?

Purely from the context of the life-changing experiences I had at UofT, I (obviously, subjectively) think it`s an incredible school, both in terms of academics and overall environment. I will forever remember my years at UofT as some of the best years of my life. I met unbelievable individuals who have changed the academic world with their ideas, their thoughts. I made lifelong friends who adore this institution as much as I do. I met and befriended renowned professors who challenged me more than I anticipated. I learned so much from these individuals, and I would never regret my choice of attending an institution that provided me with such quality education. Is it really such a crime to be educated by individuals who have taught at and attended Harvard and Yale? And if that`s what makes individuals hate UofT so much, I roll my eyes in exasperation. Learning from these individuals was a challenging experience I`ll never forget. It was a life-changing experience that I`m (humbly) grateful I received. No need to hate (link), really. Shhhh, the Black Eyed Peas wouldn`t approve.

I`m not claiming that UofT is better than other universities. I just (subjectively) claim that (cue Barney Stinson) UofT is awesome. And if you tell me otherwise, just provide me with sufficient (read: respectful) justification. Which I will honestly accept and respect, given that you give me yours. Respect(ful) being the key word. It`s an ingredient missing from these conversations. What`s that, Aretha? Please and thanks.

I love UofT. And if I`m negatively judged for doing so, then so be it. Nothing will change my mind about an institution that will forever have my loyalties. And if that makes me a stuck-up, elitist snob, then we don`t have to be friends. Really, I have no problem with that.

“He who joyfully marches to music in rank and file has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice.”
- Albert Einstein

A Morning Jog In Kingston - Early Morning (Crazy) Encounters

I woke up at 5:30 am this morning to jog. I actually did it. After putting off jogging for months, I shook off the shackles that tied me to my desk, books, and laptop, and donned appropriate jogging gear. And after that hour, I arrived back home and sat in my room quite proud of myself. I haven't done this in ages, and I'm glad I finally took the time away from reading, marking, writing (and repeat, and repeat) to actually work on physical exercise that could prevent future coronaries.

Yet my morning job was replete with odd encounters. I don't know why this always happens to me. I always encounter the strangest (albeit entertaining) people. Granted, I was out at a pretty strange hour. And granted, I did jog through a notoriously interesting (read: shady) neighbourhood. But I didn't anticipate the giggle-worthy encounters that I came upon this morning.

FIRST, I jogged down Princess Street. Nothing too interesting caught my eye. That is, until a woman wearing nothing but jeans and a bright pink bikini top strolled past me, pushing a stroller. With a dog in it.

At 5:30 am.

And it wasn't even a small, tiny puppy that the stroller carried. The dog was huge. Large enough to qualify as a whole different species, really. Smiling and nodding, Pink Bikini Top walked passed me, mouthing "Good morning" before she continued down Princess Street (Kingston townies are so friendly, right?). And as I jogged away, the following questions ran through my mind: Wasn't she cold? Who wears a bikini top at the end of October? Does the dog not own a leash? What, pray tell, made her put her dog in a baby stroller? Puzzling questions, these.

SECOND, I jogged over to Metro to pick up some extra stir fry sauce. I love Metro. And the fact that it's open 24 hours. As I was leaving, I paused by the entrance to pull on my jacket and gloves. Because unlike Pink Bikini Top, I was actually very cold. Yet a man standing by the entrance caught my eye. He was pacing back and forth in front of Metro's entrance, rehearsing some lines of some sort. Because I'm nosy, I slowed down my jacket-zipping and paused to watch. A woman in a red jacket approached him, coffee mug in hand, a nervous smile plastered on her face.

Woman: Hi... Rick?
Man: Yes, hello! Hi! Wow, it's great to meet you.
Woman: Yes, it's great to meet you too. Should we go inside Metro for a chat?
Man: I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. I've never been on a blind date before.

Um. What? They were on a blind date? At 5:30 am? At Metro? Where did they meet, Lavalife? Curiously, I watched them stroll through the pastry aisle, chatting about their jobs, picking curiously at the cupcakes on sale for $3.99 (They're Halloween themed. With orange frosting. Buy them). I have no idea what possessed them to have a date at 5:30 am. As I walked out, the following questions ran through my mind: Why were they having their first date at Metro? What's there to do at Metro? How did they even meet? Who arranged it? More importantly, why is your first date held at a grocery store? Puzzling questions, these.

THIRD, I jogged down Brock Street, a million thoughts running through my mind. I had to be at the office early this morning, so I decided to run a little faster home so that I could get ready and leave for campus at an earlier time. And yet as I began jogging through Vic Park, a curious sight caught my eye. A group of about 10 people were sprawled on their backs, on top of a huge pile of leaves, giggling as they rolled around on the leaves.

At 5:30 am.

They continued to constantly roll around until they were absolutely covered in leaves. As I jogged by, I caught some of their comments to each other: "Isn't autumn great? It's my favourite season," "This is totally calming me down before the midterm," and "Wouldn't it be great if these leaves were money?"

Oh, Kingston. Nothing can compare to your quirks and oddly endearing (albeit a tad crazy) population. Nonetheless, weird or not, I'm so glad I jogged. That one hour jogging at the crack of dawn gave me more entertainment than I've had in weeks. Mornings like these make me realize how much I'm growing to love Kingston. Back to work!

"If all else fails, immortality can always be assured by spectacular error."
- John Kenneth Galbraith, Money: Whence It Came, Where It Went

Dear Housemates - From The Roomie Upstairs, With Love

Dear Housemates,

I haven't blogged about you yet. It's about time I did. Two months ago, when I found housing in Kingston, I wondered who my housemates would be. I didn't know any of you. Obviously, moving in with utter strangers, I did realize that I could be living with potential nutjobs come September. I prepared myself for the worst. Prior to moving in, I read a story online about how a university student moved into a student house and found that one of her housemates had a pet snake. Fantastic.

However, let this blog post serve to let you girls (and boys) know that, in the month that we've all been living together, I've come to appreciate you all very much. And the fact that none of you own a snake.

I appreciate that on nights like tonight, when the weather is lousy and we have no desire to cook, we can all go out for dinner to an obscure, hole-in-the-wall Cambodian restaurant and still enjoy it. As I sit here writing this blog post, I am absolutely, positively stuffed. Due to nerves over my presentation this afternoon, I didn't eat a single thing all day. However, our girly dinner this evening at Cambodonia did the trick. Stuffing ourselves with Cambodian food, known on campus for its rave reviews, I'm glad we discovered the tastiest spring rolls in Kingston together.

I also appreciate that our ice cream cravings occur simultaneously. And the fact that we all require sugar after every meal. I also appreciate it takes each of us 10 minutes sampling every flavour at Baskin Robbins before making that life-or-death decision. Thank goodness, I'm not the only one overly indecisive about meal options.

I appreciate that we watch the same TV shows. There are absolutely no objections to running home from Baskin Robbins, in the pouring rain, just to catch the latest Glee episode. I also appreciate that there aren't any fights over the remote to watch arbitrary shows like The Apprentice. Because really, who watches that nowadays?

I appreciate that one of you called our landlord to have someone check on our heating issues. As a result, we won't be freezing to death tonight.

I appreciate that none of you complain over my alarm clock that rings every morning at 4:30 AM. Thank you for tolerating the crazy housemate who voluntarily wakes up at the crack of dawn.

I appreciate that we have similar music tastes. And while my own music preferences sometimes lean toward the obscure (really, if anyone reading this blog post actually listens to The Morning Benders, you are probably my soulmate), I appreciate that we still have the option of going out together to have a good time. I'll also add my amusement over next Thursday's plans to go out downtown for the sole purpose of finding Glee's Mike Chang look-alike, spotted at The Ale House last Thursday.

I appreciate that you gave me tips on how to play Dodgeball effectively. I owe my newfound athletic prowess to all of you.

I appreciate our excitement over decorating our house for upcoming holidays. And our preliminary plans to purchase Halloween candy that we don't intend to hand out to children. I also appreciate our desire to hunt for a pumpkin patch in Kingston, plans to go Christmas tree hunting in the winter, and plans to spend the holiday season baking cookies. Because holiday cookies make the world go 'round.

Most of all, I appreciate that each of you are great housemates. I couldn't have asked for better. Here's to a great year together!

With Love,

The Roomie Upstairs

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view, until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it."
- Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

A Day Of Coffee Shop Hopping - A Kingston Experiment

Gazing forlornly at my never-ending pile of readings this weekend, I sighed and wondered what, pray tell, could I do to make my hours of reading and study time a little more exciting. Nursing a cold and a minor bout with the flu, I wanted to do something more than sitting for hours reading at the same office, on the same chair, at the same desk. Mackintosh-Corry Hall, I love you, I really do. But I do need a change of scenery once in awhile. Preferably one that involves food. And so in a flash of inspiration, I was struck with an idea for a little experiment. To instill some excitement into my study time, I decided to engage in something I'd like to call Coffee Shop Hopping.

A few months ago, I blogged about the many uses of The Coffee Date, briefly mentioning my love for sitting in coffee shops for hours to study or read. Well, friends, this love for reading in coffee shops couldn't have been put to greater use this weekend. What is Coffee Shop Hopping, you ask? Quite literally, I spent most of my afternoon amusing myself by hopping from coffee shop to coffee shop across campus, in sequence, throughout a set period of time, incorporating my study and reading time into the hours I spent at each coffee shop. A cozy little coffee shop is a great place to study, no?

I assure you, I'm not crazy. There was indeed a method to this madness. My two goals behind this little experiment:
1) Get to know Kingston's coffee shop scene. I haven't visited most of Kingston's popular coffee shops, and I also haven't explored Kingston very much. And so this was the perfect conclusion, really. Exploring Kingston and studying at the same time? Exciting.
2) Reading in coffee shops beats sitting in Mack-Corry Hall on a weekend. Enough said?

The Tea Room
10:00 am: I walked down Union Street to The Tea Room, clutching my Political Parties readings, eagerly anticipating my first destination. I knew exactly what I was going to order at The Tea Room: a large Lychee Tea. It tastes as good as it sounds, friends. Friendly tip: A huge, gigantic, enormous mug of tea can be purchased here for a mere $1.98. Heads up: the price for a Large is the same as the price for a Small. Excited, I reached the corner of Union Street and Division, arriving at my destination. The Downside? The Tea Room is closed on Sundays.

Fail.

Coffee & Company
10:15 am: Unfazed, I left the entrance of The Tea Room, and strolled down Division Street with my next coffee shop target in mind: Coffee & Company at the corner of Division and Johnson. I entered the shop, found myself a cozy table tucked away in the corner, and decided to order a 12oz cup of hot chocolate. Because a cup of hot chocolate is always nice on a chilly morning (and it really was chilly. Summer's over, friends!).

I found nothing special with Coffee & Company. My drink was mediocre, at best. The service was less than mediocre, and the barista hardly cracked a smile. Leaning against the counter, she ignored her customers by checking out her nails. The entire line-up stared at her as we waited to place our orders. Despite lackluster decor and service, I was still able to get some work done. I also witnessed the most hilarious exchange between a Master's student and the blonde he nervously attempted to flirt with, finding the most awkward ways to talk to her. He used gems such as "Can I borrow a pen?," "What time is it?," "You look like someone in my program!," "You have beautiful hair," etc. Oh, how I love coffee shops. Studying and people-watching: my two favourite pastimes.

P.S. I don't think I'm coming back here.

Starbucks
1:00 pm: Completing my Political Parties readings, I tucked the journal articles away in my folder, left Coffee & Company, and crossed the street to my next coffee shop haunt: Starbucks. Let me just say, first of all, that I'm quite indifferent to Starbucks' appeal. Walking into the Starbucks on Division and Johnson, however, I was pleasantly surprised. The building that houses this location is incredibly pretty. And unlike many Starbucks locations I've encountered in Toronto, Division Street's location is quite cozy. Students sat around the room, flipping books, highlighting pages, surfing the Internet. A picturesque campus coffee shop, really. I can't wait to see it during Christmastime!

I did most of my work in Starbucks. Completing all my readings for Comparative Politics of Development, I sighed in satisfaction as I took the last few sips of my overly-complicated-overly-priced London Fog and munched on the last bits of my Banana loaf. Upon completion of my yummy Banana loaf, I packed up my belongings and headed to my next coffee shop target: Common Ground.

P.S. I crave a London Fog all the time. It's an unhealthy habit, really. I found a coffee shop booth in Stauffer Library that whips up a pretty good one.

P.P.S. I liked this Starbucks location so much that it wins among all my coffee shop targets today. Something tells me I'll be studying here quite frequently.

P.P.P.S. 2:45 pm: Walked into Stooley's Cafe on Division & Johnson, decided it was too busy, grabbed a menu, sampled a coffee, and left.

Common Ground in the Athletics & Recreation Centre
3:00 pm: On to my next coffee shop target. I remembered that I needed to get the sticker on my student card for the Athletic Centre's drop-in classes, so I headed over to the ARC. After my errand, I headed to the Common Ground: a cute little campus haunt. Affectionately called the CoGro, it's cheap(er) than Starbucks. And despite drinking a Grande London Fog just an hour before, I ordered yet another one here at the Common Ground (I'm telling you, friends, I'm obsessed with this drink). Downside? It's overrun by undergraduate students. Upside? Their London Fog is amazing.

P.S. It was at this point that I started getting woozy from all the coffee shop beverages I consumed that afternoon. Too much tea and hot chocolate. After sitting down to organize my reading notes, I decided it was time for desserts. On to my next coffee shop target!

Pan Chancho Bakery
4:30 pm: After an afternoon of reading and coffee shop hopping in the area around campus, I walked over to Kingston's "downtown." And by downtown, I really mean our one street with ten stores. My next target, Pan Chancho, is one I've heard a lot about. I've been told that if I wanted to re-live my Paris pastry experience, I needed to visit this bakery and, by association, it's cafe. It didn't disappoint. Friends, I had the yummiest scone I've ever purchased. And biting into its cheesy goodness, I was in a happy place. A very happy place. Going through the last of my readings by flipping through Gary Cox's Making Votes Count: Strategic Coordination In The World's Electoral Systems, I sipped my cup of tea and happily munched on a Buttermilk Blueberry Muffin. It doesn't take much to make me happy, really.

CONCLUSIONS

Coffee Shop Count: 6
Coffee Shop Drinks Consumed: 6
Coffee Shop Desserts Devoured: 4
Upside? - My study time was highly entertaining, as I hoped it would. It was also very productive. I finished much of my work within the coffee shop environment, and discovered one of my favourite study places on campus.
Downside? - I ate desserts and drank tea or hot chocolate all afternoon. I shamelessly admit that I'm a tad wired as I write this blog post. These experiments of exploration do have its tolls, I suppose. Really, I'm surprised I'm not bouncing off the walls.

What a satisfying Pan Chancho-esque conclusion to a day of coffee-shop hopping. Due to my time constraints (and the fact that I had a lot of work to do), I obviously didn't visit every single coffee shop in Kingston. Rather, I visited the typical coffee haunts I've heard the most about. Overall, I'm glad I explored Kingston's campus coffee shop scene. Oh, Kingston. There's so much more of you that I've yet to explore.

"In the course of my life, I have often had to eat my words, and I must confess that I have always found it a wholesome diet."
- Sir Winston Churchill